Outosan
by SakuraTenshi101
Summary: Sasori referred to his dad as "Dad." Deidara refers to his dad as "Father." Deidara can't help but to rely on his best friend while he's being abused by his father. Sasori can't take the fact his best friend is being abused. COLLAB WITH NINOANDJAFFAR.
1. Father

Author's Note will be at the end and is optional.

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><p>Father<p>

By: Ninoandjaffar

What is a father? 1. A male parent. 2. A father-in-law, stepfather, or adoptive father. 3. Any male ancestor, especially the founder of race, family, or line; progenitor. 4. A male who exercises paternal care over other persons; paternal protector or provider: _a father to the poor._ 5. A person who has originated or established something: _the father of modern psychology; the founding fathers._

What is a parent? 1. A father or a mother. 2. An ancestor, precursor, or progenitor. 3. A source, origin, or cause. 4. A protector or guardian. 5. _Biology_: Any organism that produces or generates another.

What is a father? A father is the male parent in a child's life who sets an example of behaviors that are appropriate and teaches why other behaviors are not. A child should feel loved and cared about when in the presence of a father.

What is a parent? A parent is a person in a child's life who's purpose is to make the child feel safe and secure. The child should feel loved and cared about when in the presence of a parent.

:::

These were things I never had while growing up. My parents...my father...left a long time ago. I find myself nineteen years old now, and I was six when they departed on a trip they would never come home from. Somehow, I turned out just fine. Maybe it was my grandmother becoming more than just a grandmother to me...she became my parent. Or maybe it was just pure luck.

Never-the-less, I find myself grateful. I find myself thankful that I don't have a father, as horrible as that may seem. But if you knew my friend, my dearest companion, you might understand where I'm coming from.

The horridness of the stories he tells me not only send shivers down my spine, but they set my stomach churning. My heart starts to beat faster and faster, filling up with rage and hate for the man my friend still calls 'father.'

A slap to the face. "You're worthless!"

A punch to the gut. "Why do you even exist?"

A grabbing of arms, forcing towards the ground. "You're more pathetic than any other creature on this Earth!"

Sometimes, I ask myself why I still listen. I hate hearing stories like this, especially from someone so close and dear to me. But, then the answer comes to my head: I listen because I care, because I love him and if listening is what he needs of me, I'll listen until my ears bleed and fall off.

But you know, maybe I have this all wrong. What defines a father versus a dad?

What is a dad? _**Noun **__informal: _Father.

What is a father? A father is the male who offers half of the DNA necessary for the creation of a child. He is also the deciding factor for the gender of the child.

What is a dad? A dad is the male parent in a child's life who sets an example of behaviors that are appropriate and teaches why other behaviors are not. A dad is a person in a child's life who's purpose is to make the child feel safe and secure. A child should feel loved and cared about when in the presence of a dad.

:::

Deidara stood in the living room, looking at a picture. A woman with brunette hair, a man with red hair, and a baby with red hair stood, with a city scene in the background.

"Who are they, un?" he asked me as he pushed some blond hair behind his ear.

I walked over, standing just behind him. "They're my mom and dad," I answered simply.

"Oh," he gasped. After a minute, he turns to face me. "They look like nice people, un."

I smile. "From what I've heard, they are."

He turns to look back at the picture. Though I'm looking at the back of his head, I can still feel the sorrow he's emitting. "I wish my father was like that, un."

:::

Now that I think about it, we always did refer to them differently. His was 'father,' and mine was 'dad.' So maybe that was the difference.

A father is a sperm donor. A dad is a mentor.

:::

A knock at the door dragged me from my thoughts. I quietly got up from my chair at my desk and headed for the door. As I opened it, a grotesquely familiar sight greeted me.

"Hey, Danna..." his eyes are a dulled blue. "Can I stay over for the night, un?"

Without words, I quickly escorted him to my bathroom. I felt like this shouldn't feel so familiar. It felt too ritual to me.

His eye was swollen, and he's cradling his right arm. I don't need to ask to know what happened, but I asked anyways. "So, what happened this time?"

"I fell down the stairs, un."

His answers are lies, and both of us know this. I could never figure out why he lied to begin with, but more baffling to me is why he still lies about it. We've talked of this many times before.

Maybe it's just part of the ritual.

I started to clean off his eye. There appeared to be a cut on his forehead, so the blood must be cleaned up first. A band-aid should do just fine. Once the bleeding is taken care of, I got a towel, running it under cold water. "Here," is all I managed as I handed it to him. He already knew it was for his eye.

Next, the arm. I picked it up, examining the extent of the injuries. Looks like just a couple cuts, nothing major. Clean off the blood, wrap and ACE-wrap around it, and let him rest. That's about all I can do for him.

"Arigatou," I heard him whisper as I finish wrapping his arm.

I gave him a faint smile. "It's no problem. Let's go lay down for a little bit."

We're both quiet as we headed into my room. I like to think it's a nice room; Deidara thinks it's plain. There's only the desk, a bed, and a shelving unit with a small television on it. The walls are red in color, and the carpet is a cream. Red silken sheets were neatly made on my bed.

No wonder it only took him one guess as to my favorite color.

We both headed to the bed. I got on first, adjusting the pillows for him. It would be best to raise his head for his eye, after all. He joined me once it was all set.

Silence overcame us as we laid in the semi-darkness the curtain over my window created. Deidara was the first to break the silence.

"Can we listen to some music, un?" he quietly asked.

"Of course."

Only a minute later, and the piano music of Satie's Gymnopedie filled the room. Deidara normally listens to J-pop, and I to classical. When he's here, though, he likes pieces with piano in them. So sometimes I even perform for him. When we're at school, I wont deny that I enjoy listening to Nico Touches The Walls.

"I like it here, un."

"I like you being here, too."

"I feel...safe...secure...when I'm here with you, un."

"I'm glad. You are safe and secure with me."

"You love me and care for me, and that's all I want, un." It's a statement, not a question.

"And I always will."

Hm. Maybe I'm more of a dad than his own father.

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><p>AN: Ok, so just to explain: this is a vent-fan-fiction. That means I am writing this to vent. My friend, Sakura Tenshikami, and I had a series of texts a few weeks ago about how her father had hurt her that day. Now, I must admit, something always seemed off about her father, but that just kinda set me on edge. It just rubs me the wrong way when people do stuff like that. So, with nothing I could really do but tell her that I love her and that I'd protect her as much as I could, I began to write this. As I'm sure you can guess, I am Sasori and she is Deidara. I thank you for reading this and, if you wouldn't mind, could you keep her in your thoughts for me.<p>

Also, just for those of you wondering, the definitions were taken straight from either or my heart. I'm sure you can tell which came from where.


	2. Dad

Author's Not is at the end of the story and is optional.

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><p>Dad<p>

(A Response to NinoandJaffar's "Father")

By SakuraTenshikami

He never seemed to understand.

He never understood anyone with the exception of outsiders. By outsiders, I mean people who aren't part of the family. He understood Mom, I'm sure, but I do question that most of the time. But me? No. He never took the time to try.

He doesn't say my name too much. When he does, it's always used when throwing a threat. Any other time, my name is "Brat," "You," "Stupid," "Slave," "Useless"… The list goes on.

I just want him to say my name in a different voice.

:::

Today was another one of his days. Actually, his day is like any other day. He gets up, goes to work, comes home, and spends the rest of the day acting like a grump. I swear he's hitting his senile ages a decade or so too early. Mom always has to calm him down, but not even she can always be successful. We both just know that he likes to target me.

Just me, and anyone else who gets in his way to get to me.

I know my father would never touch my mom in an aggressive manner. But as her son, I can't help but feel that I have the responsibility to protect her-to protect my family.

He doesn't like that.

:::

I went to Sasori no Danna's house again. Mom urged me to go. I wanted to go. We both knew it was the only sanctuary I had when my father was home. My room was never enough-whatever is my territory is his territory tenfold.

I knocked on my best friend's door. When he opened it and asked the exact routine question, I gave him my answer. "I fell down the stairs, un," I told him.

I never knew why I always lied to him, even though we both knew it was a lie, even though he had slowly poked and prodded me to the point where I would just tell him the stories of the abuse I would receive. Maybe it was just part of the ritual.

He continued to lead me up to the bathroom to clean me up. A swipe of a washcloth over blood, a wrap around the slightly bigger scratches, a wet towel over my swollen eye.

I really liked to listen to his classical music as we lay on his bed in silence. I may not know many of the titles, but I tried to remember them as best I could. I could at least remember the soothing melodies. Unlike my bed, I found his to be a little more comfortable. Maybe because I knew I could actually relax. Maybe a plain room like his wasn't so unartistic after all.

"I like it here, un."

"I like you being here, too."

I sat there a moment. A slightly embarrassed flush starting to warm my face. "I feel… safe… secure… when I'm here with you, un."

"I'm glad. You are safe and secure with me."

Suddenly, I couldn't help but feel enlightened. I knew he cared. But sometimes I just wondered if he was tired of me coming to him at times like this. "You love me and care for me," I started, "and that's all I want, un."

"And I always will."

I thought back at all those times that I would look at the picture of baby Sasori no Danna and his parents. His dad. His dad looked very nice. Something that I wished my father was like. If Danna was anything like his dad, then I wanted to be loved by him forever.

:::

Yelling and screaming rang through my ears. Father wasn't going to calm down anytime soon, despite Mom's efforts to quell his behavior with her gentle, yet harsh tone.

_Slap!_

"You're worthless!"

All I could do was wait,

_Slam!_ My head collided with wood.

"I never want you in this house again!"

take the crushing pain,

Grabbing of my hair and arms, being kicked repeatedly to the ground.

"You don't deserve to exist!"

and try my hardest to hold back the tears forming in the corner of my eyes. As pathetic as it was, I couldn't even fight back. I was too afraid. I didn't want to hurt Mom. Father was already doing a good job of that.

:::

She finally calmed him down, getting him outside for the world to see. He would never show his ugly self to the world. Mom gave him an earful from what I could see out the window. After some time, they came back in. His expression was one that I had almost forgotten. He was sober.

Before I could register anything, I felt arms reluctantly, awkwardly embrace me. He was hugging me. Gently.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, rubbing my sore back. "What I've done was wrong of me to do. I'm sorry... I really do love you, Deidara."

Nothing could stop them now. Rivers of tears fell from the corners of my eyes. What I had wished for…

I hugged him awkwardly back. "I love you, too, Dad… un."

This was the first time I've seen my father like this in a very long time. Acting like the dad he should be. For the first time in years, I saw a glimpse of actual sincerity, sympathy, actual love and care… Like a real dad.

I need to do my best to keep that memory of feeling loved; feeling safe and secure for those very short few minutes…

"Dad" will be gone tomorrow.

* * *

><p>AN: So it was my turn to add my part of the collab one-shot. This, like Nino's is also a vent story. After reading her fanfic, "Father," I just couldn't help but feel happy to hear that someone cared about my well-being inside the home. It's always hard to reach out to others in need like that... and it's especially hard when you don't know who to trust. What had happened doesn't happen as much as I portray it in this story, but when it does, it's always painful. With my father, I don't even know if he really means the rude things he says when he uses them as jokes, because he always uses them as threats, too.<p>

Anyways, this was a slightly exaggerated side of my story, but it's somewhat true, nonetheless. Thank you Nino, for always being there for me. I appreciate every bit of love you give me.


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